


needy

by dreamlibra



Category: Fruits Basket
Genre: M/M, ayame fulfills a need, hatori is needy, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 12:27:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16810612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlibra/pseuds/dreamlibra
Summary: Yet, somehow Shigure always ends up getting his way. Hatori has a lapse of judgement. Kana leaves for good and Hatori drowns himself in several bottles until his mind is fuzzy and the ache in his heart is numbed. Shigure’s words reverberate in his head, “he’d do anything if you asked” and Hatori knows he would. But could he really be so selfish?





	needy

“He only listens to what you tell him to do,” Shigure says in that playful tone he uses to hide ulterior motives.

“I’m sure he’d do anything if you asked,” he continues and Hatori doesn’t like what he’s implying.

It’s been months since Kana and the thought of what happened still twists up his insides making him feel sick. Everyone’s noticed the way Hatori has cut himself off. He’s more distant than he used to be, not even Hatori can deny that.

But he won’t do this to Ayame, he refuses to seek comfort in him. Especially not when Shigure is the one suggesting to do so. Hatori’s heart is shattered and Ayame cannot be the one in charge of helping him fix it. Not when he knows that Ayame is more than willing to tear holes in his fingertips putting together the sharp edges of Hatori that have fallen apart. 

Yet, somehow Shigure always ends up getting his way. Hatori has a lapse of judgement. Kana leaves for good and Hatori drowns himself in several bottles until his mind is fuzzy and the ache in his heart is numbed. Shigure’s words reverberate in his head, “he’d do anything if you asked” and Hatori knows he would. But could he really be so selfish?

His fingers make the decision for him. They act on their own, grabbing the phone, typing in Ayame’s familiar number. He’s never the one seeking out Ayame and no matter how inebriated, Hatori feels some shame taking home in his ribs. The phone rings, once, twice, and Ayame answers almost immediately.

“Hatori?” he says and Hatori momentarily worries when he hears the sleepiness in Ayame’s voice.

He can’t bring himself to speak, he’s disturbed Ayame and he’s beginning to feel utterly stupid for allowing Shigure to influence his choices.

“Are you okay?” Ayame asks when he doesn’t hear Hatori’s response.

“No.” 

“What can I do?”

“Come over,” Hatori says, guilt only quietly lingering under layers of alcohol.

It isn’t fair to Ayame, he shouldn’t have to take on Hatori’s sorrows, but Hatori has no one and Ayame would fall and worship at Hatori’s feet if he asked.

“I’ll be there in fifteen- no, ten minutes,” Ayame says.

And Ayame does arrive in ten minutes, long and graceful. It reminds him of how even the boys at school had found him pretty — Ayame all limbs and rosy lips and much too clean for dirty things like Hatori.

If he hadn’t known Ayame had been sleeping, he would have never guessed with the way Ayame looks when he strolls into the room. Hatori wants to warn him, leave, but it’s too late for that now. Ayame cares for a dirty thing like Hatori.

“Now, now Hatori,” he speaks, picking up a bottle. “This is unbecoming of a gentleman like you,” Ayame can only bring himself to half-joke. He’s scared shitless that Hatori has called him in the middle of the night and even more so that he’s been drinking. He knows Hatori has been different since Kana but he’s never seen him quite this bad.

Hatori can’t even bring his tongue to function much less to push words out of his mouth, he only reaches for Ayame’s hand. It’s cold and soothing against Hatori’s rougher, flushed hand. And as if acting on its own, Hatori brings Ayame’s gentle hand against his lips. He feels Ayame’s eyes on him and he can feel Ayame’s pulse quicken against his fingertips. 

Ayame pulls his hand away and pulls Hatori up without warning, it takes Hatori a few moments to recover. His head spins for a bit before he can feel Ayame’s arms wrap around his neck, so like a snake. And slowly, Hatori’s arms find their home around his waist. The two men embrace for what is not long enough. 

When Ayame pulls away, Hatori feels desperate to shut the space that has formed between them. But before Hatori can pull Ayame back into him, he’s moved away completely.

Ayame searches for old records he knows Hatori keeps around and when he’s found them, he picks one. He lays it on an old, dusty record player Hatori keeps around but never uses.

Hatori begins to shed embarrassing tears that he wouldn’t if he were sober. But the absence of Ayame reminds him of the absence of Kana and how he is oh, so alone. 

“I need you,” he croaks out to Ayame, feeling guilty and vulnerable and broken.

Ayame returns to his side and hates the way Hatori looks, so broken and fragile. And in a selfish way he feels grateful that for once, he can be the one to help Hatori. For once, Hatori is the one reaching out to him.

“It’s okay,” he speaks softly to Hatori and wraps his arms around him once again.

Hatori resigns himself to Ayame’s arms, just wanting to be closer. They sway to the gentle hum of music coming from the beaten up record player until Hatori has no more tears to shed.

He looks at Ayame and it’s not fair – how beautiful Ayame can be even in the dim light. Hatori feels ugly and selfish being held by the other man. 

He doesn’t know if it’s his own selfishness or Shigure’s words or the alcohol but he kisses Ayame. 

Ayame is cool and soft against Hatori’s heavy and undeserving mouth. Ayame doesn’t pull away, he only kisses Hatori back as lovingly as he can. Hatori knows that he can’t give Ayame what he deserves, that Hatori is too broken for him, has always been too broken for him. But Shigure is right, Ayame would do anything if he said the words.

And he does say the words.

“I need you,” he says again, this time shamelessly. This time pulling at Ayame’s robes, this time picturing him doing anything.

Ayame obliges and kisses at Hatori’s hands while they undo buttons and ribbons. He works diligently with doctor’s hands until Ayame is in his arms and so willing. And Hatori nearly forgets to breathe, thinks of all the girls and boys in school who had begged to have Ayame in their arms like this.

Hatori feels so unworthy and yet all he can think of is take. After all, that’s what he does best. He’s so good at taking — taking memories and love and destroying those things. So what if there’s one more thing he’d like to take and so what if it’s one more thing he destroys?

“My dear Hatori, you think too much,” Ayame says. His slender hand slithers its way to cup Hatori’s cheek and the touch is nauseating — much too sticky sweet for someone like Hatori. Kana had always kept her space in moments like this, they couldn’t really afford not to.

But Ayame stands before him and gently caresses. And Ayame is somehow more beautiful like this — bare and almost translucent, golden eyes piercing Hatori. Even Ayame, so graceful and gentle holds something animalistic in his eyes. Something stewing underneath the surface, hungry and gnawing. Hatori almost can’t bear it, to be looked at so earnestly when all he wants is something carnal, fleeting.

Ayame somehow manages to both take all the time in the world, and quickly unbutton Hatori. First his shirt and then his pants. Hatori flinches under those fingers, so loving it could be considered cruel. Ayame remains unfazed until all of Hatori can be seen (scales hiding under his skin and all).

They embrace again, and slowly that becomes a kiss. A hungry one, all desperate teeth and eager tongues. There are fingers in mouths and intertwined together. And Ayame is so much like a snake in moments like this, a curious tongue and desperation for warmth. Breathing becomes harder and less important than the heat building up in both their bellies.

It’s Ayame’s fingers that open him up, slow and careful. Again, a touch so loving that Hatori is left somewhere between despair and desperation for more, more, please more. And Ayame is just as desperate, desperate to please, desperate to finally be there for Hatori. And it’s so easy the way Hatori is so malleable in his hands.

Fingers are enough for a moment, but quickly Ayame’s skin grows cold and quickly Hatori needs more of him. They crash together in waves, and it becomes so easy to picture being a wave. Hatori figures it’s the dragon that lingers in his bones thinking that way. And it feels so at home in these waves, turbulent and overwhelming. 

Hatori makes soft, sad sounds while Ayame covers in him all his warmth, all his love. He lets Ayame take care of him the way he so desperately wishes to. Until Hatori is nothing but waves, waves of pain and anger and joy and something primitive and hungry in his soul. 

It ends.

Hatori is empty save for Ayame in his bed, flushed and sweaty. Still so unfairly beautiful, Hatori’s heart almost puts itself back just to fall apart. 

Ayame stares back with eyes that belong to a snake, eyes terrifying and loving. Hatori closes his eyes, unable to look into Ayame’s any longer and pulls the other man close. In the morning Hatori will leave him in bed, alone. He’ll blame it on drinks and a broken heart, he’ll pretend he doesn’t need this. He’ll act like Shigure wasn’t absolutely right, that Ayame would do anything for him. 

For the night he’ll lay tangled in Ayame, and Ayame will dream of being needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Ayame's a top, I don't make the rules.


End file.
